


is ibiza where heaven is?

by baroqueserenity



Category: Legend (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Mentions of Suicide, Suicide, but frances deserved to be free, but he also is sad bc he loved frances so much, but i think they also deserved a chance to be able to love each other purely, he deserves it, major angst, mentions of assault, reggie after frances's suicide, reggie after the assault, reggie is sad, their heaven is Ibiza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baroqueserenity/pseuds/baroqueserenity
Summary: all reggie wanted to do was to go home and sleep with frances in his arms, but he couldn't even do that because she was dead.that thought made him want to vomit and sob.orreggie and his feelings after the assault and the suicide.





	is ibiza where heaven is?

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! I watched legend (2015) with tom hardy and emily browning this past weekend and i couldn't get over their compelling story of gang life, but also the dark, twisted and tragic love story of reggie and frances. I actually cried a lot watching their story :-( and it inspired me to write this because I feel like with the depth of their love story, I should have been able to see reggie grieve and how frances's death affected him. I also wanted to write about their love for each other, because that seemed to be a really important thing in the movie, despite how toxic their relationship was. I feel like they should have been able to experience a love was was purely just them and nothing else.

At first, he doesn’t know what to make of himself and his surroundings when he wakes up the next morning with Frances gone and their bedroom in shambles. He gets up, head throbbing, and he thinks maybe he got up too fast because his vision immediately began to swim. When the veil of dizziness lifted (for the most part), he noticed that the flat seemed emptier than he was used to, and eventually came to the conclusion that his belongings were still present, but nothing of Frances’s remained. That lead him to try to remember what happened, but the residual dizziness put him in a trance, one that was only broken by the loud banging at his door.

Reggie reluctantly walked to the front door to see who could be at his flat in this hour, only to find himself face to face with Ronnie, who sported a mean, angry look on his face.

“What’s got your face all fucked up like that, Ron?” Reggie asked.

Ronnie’s scowl deepend before he let himself in and sat on the couch without bothering to even greet his brother. This was strange for Reggie, because he knew that Ronnie wasn’t usually like this, so he made his way to sit across from his brother and waited until he explained his reasoning for being at his flat.

Ronnie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I came here to talk to you about something, but I saw Frances leaving just a couple of minutes ago.”

“Yeah, she wasn’t here when I woke up.”

The frown that set itself on Ronnie’s mouth was something that Reggie was unfamiliar with.

“She had her luggage packed and she said she was leaving you. I helped her carry her things and told her that she might have been getting out at just the right time.”

Ronnie’s frown appeared on Reggie’s face, expressions mirroring each other.

“Why would’ya do that, Ron?”

“You hit her. I saw it on her face. I couldn’t even look at her, because she was that badly bruised. I’ll take a guess and say you probably fucking forced yourself on her.”

His brother’s words had seeped into his body, finally waking his brain up and reminding him of the events that occurred the night before, when Frances had slapped him and he, in pent up anger, had assaulted her.

“I love Frances.”

At this, Ronnie had stood up abruptly, movement impacting his surroundings.

“I know we’re fucking gangsters, Reg, but we do not put our hands on women. Especially not women we claim to love. We weren’t raised like that. I love you, brother, but I know the type of person that Frances is and that bird is damaged beyond anything you could probably comprehend.”

 

-

After Ronnie’s confrontation, to which he basically had no chance to get some words in, he had laid back down in bed and rewinded to the night before and its events. He couldn’t stand to look at the bathtub, or the loveseat because all he could see was the look of pure fear in Frances’s face. It was like it was permanently etched into the darkness of his soul. He sits up, looking around and realizes that the clothes he had torn off his wife last night were still on the floor, staring up at him as if screaming at him and repeating all of the atrocities that he had committed. He recoiled in fear and disgust, bile climbing up his throat, and ran to the toilet where he retched up the guilt building in his stomach.

-

Weeks and weeks he’d waited under her window, throwing her favorite lemon sherbets in hopes of getting her to open her window like the day he had proposed to her, only to find out that she had left. Of course her parents refused to disclose her whereabouts, but Reggie knew where she was. Who else would she be staying with if it wasn’t her brother? Certainly she didn’t have any friends, or at least not any that he knew of.

That singular thought would haunt him for the rest of his life.

-

Frank had opened the door, and Reggie noticed that he had been surprised at his presence. Or maybe at his audacity to show his face after what he’d done to his sister?

Reggie couldn’t help the threats that came out of his mouth, because he was so used to it, but Frank had warned him that Frances was delicate and that broke the last string. Of course, she was fucking delicate. He had assaulted her, but what he needed right now was to see her and to apologize.

His anger was growing and swelling and he might have done something he would have regretted if Frances hadn’t shown up, bright brown eyes and warm smiles and all, tucking herself under Frank’s arm.

“Hello Frances.”

“Hello Reggie.” She smiled up at him, but he could see her lips tremble just a bit.

“Have you got a minute to chat?”

“Yeah,” she says and he follows her to the balcony, just a bit further from her brother’s flat.

The conversation plays out, not the way that he had imagined it.

He sighed, looking at her face. “Y’know, I thought we’d have a kid or two.”

She looks up at him strangely, questioningly. “Why? So you could use them to threaten me?”

That’s not what he expects her to say and he’s taken aback, so much so that he stutters his response.

“N-no, it’s because I love you. I still love you.” His heartstrings are pulling, and it gets harder to breathe.

She scoffs, a sad smile making its way onto her face. “Love? No, that’s just something you say out of loyalty to something that didn’t exist in the first place.”

He looks at her, the guilt weighing down his organs. He loved her, why doesn’t she believe him?

“No, no, Frances, listen. I love you. Please, let me make amends for all of the pain and suffering I have brought you, please.” His voice quivers slightly, and she could only shake her head.

“Frankie, please. Just let me take you somewhere. Anywhere. Just the two of us. It could be like our second honeymoon?”

Frances smiles a little, and Reggie sees hope in her eyes.

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

“Ibiza.”

He looks at her confused. “Who?”

She giggles, the same giggle that he’d spend all sorts of nights thinking about. The same giggle that he had fallen in love with on their first date.

“Ibiza. Let’s go there. I like how the word sounds.”  
She smiles then, and the look on her face is warm and settles in his heart.

“Alright. You want that we go to Ibiza? I’ll get the tickets today, I’ll book them today!” He says, ecstatic but not wanting to show it too much.

She looks at him for a moment, the smile on her face wavering, before she nods and walks back to Frank’s house.

He stands outside of the door for a while, confused, but happy at the thought of being with his girl, in Ibiza, a place that makes her giggle.

-

Reggie had kept his word and booked the tickets for him and Frances that very day, and he patiently waited for the time when Frances would tell him that she wanted to go. He had waited, and waited for weeks for her to contact him, but there hadn’t been anything. No calls, visits, nothing. They didn’t even bump into each other once.

One day, he had woken up to a horrible feeling settling in his stomach, and he had pulled out the tickets to Ibiza to calm him down. Sometimes he did that because those tickets were a symbol of hope for him and the woman he loved so very much. However, that day, looking at the tickets only made the feeling in the pit of his stomach grow. It wasn’t until he got a call from Frank (whom he’d never thought would ever call him again) that later afternoon that he would find out why.

The call had been rushed, with Frank a sobbing, incoherent mess, and Reggie barely understanding him apart from what he said about an overdose. The feeling had settled in his stomach again and he prayed, and prayed, and prayed that it wasn’t what he was thinking. The ride to Frank’s flat had been physically silent, but Reggie’s blood pumped loudly and his anxiety made his palms sweat.

When he’d gotten there, Frank was standing outside and Reggie could see his trembling form from far away.

“Where is she?” His voice was hoarse.

“She’s in her bedroom.” Frank’s was, too.

Reggie let himself in and walked slowly to Frances’s room, scared of what he was going to find.

Taking all of the courage he had, he walked slowly into her room, taking in the scent that he undoubtedly missed. He looked towards her bed and found her body laying there, limp and cold. She was wearing an immaculate dress, blood dripping down her nose. He looks at her body for a long time before he comes around to her dresser and finds her pills. The same pills that his gang had been running around selling. He almost wants the laugh in the irony of it all, but he is so emotionally exhausted that his body drops and he takes a seat on the chair next to the bed, only look at his love’s dead body. He looks at her, and her beautiful dress, and her beautiful face and beautiful hair and thinks that it was all a disguise to hide the broken, damaged girl that was within. Frank had told him, and even Ronnie had warned him that she was damaged, but he didn’t listen and at this point, he thinks so hard about it that he realizes he hadn’t really known Frances at all. He had only known what she showed him, but she knew him. She _knew_ him, but he didn’t know her, and he didn’t bother to know her.

He had made promises to her and he couldn’t keep it. He didn’t keep them. It makes his head spin and he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

_“Oh Frankie, you take my breath away.”_

_“Don’t worry, you can have mine.”_

The feeling from his gut is back full force and it crawls up his throat and it hurts so much that he doesn’t even know he’s moved to grasp Frances’s hand. He doesn’t know that he’s sobbing heavily until he feels Frank’s hand, comforting despite the fact that he too is grieving, on his shoulder.

That afternoon, Reggie would drink himself insensible. He was alone, because Frank had gone to his parents and told them what happened and now they have to make funeral arrangements. He downs his whiskey and scoffs. _Funeral arrangements for my Frances_. He was alone, so he let his anger at himself and his grief for France consume him until he couldn’t know anything else.

-

At her funeral, he was invited to say some words about Frances in front of the people who came. Frank had invited him to speak, despite knowing that their parents would never allow him to.

Frank had pulled him aside the day before and told him, “ Listen Reg, I know you loved her, and the love that you guys had for each other were beautiful, so I think you should be able to say something tomorrow. Maybe it will help.”

Reggie was thankful for that. His mouth tilted up a little, despite the sadness weighing at his heart. “I still love her.”

-

He couldn’t find it in himself to speak many words in front of people. Not many came, a fact that he was angry at, because his Frances was a beautiful, kind, loving person and deserved to be remembered for that.

He had walked up to the podium with the mic, and paused, overlooking the people that came. His eyes stopped and held the eyes of Frances’s mother.

“Frances was my greatest joy in life. I love her, and she is the center of my world. I will always love my Frankie.”

-

He was the last one to leave after her burial. In fact, he didn’t want to leave at all.

Without caring about anything, Reggie kneeled in the dirt and bowed to his Frankie’s grave site. Looking at her dressed up dead body in the casket had stopped his heart, but looking at the dirt and the flowers had thrusted him back to the harsh reality that he had to now live it.

He touched his forehead down to the dirt, as if it was her forehead he was touching, and began to sob. Reggie had never been this much of an emotional person, but what do you do when you lose the only woman you had ever loved?

-

When he was leaving the cemetery, Frances’s mother had gotten out of her car and spit at his window.

“You killed her! You killed my daughter! Murderer! You’re gonna rot in hell, Reggie Kray!”

Reggie had learned to drown these voices out, but he couldn’t do it before it could seemed into the darkness of his heart.

He _had_ killed her. It was his pills that killed her.

_“Oh, you’re popping pills again? You’re a pill-popper”_

_“And who made me that?!”_

It was his actions that killed her.

_“Reggie, what’re you doing?!”_

_“Reggie, stop.. STOP!”_   
_“Please, no.. stop!”_

He covers his eyes and tries to suppress the tears and the pain, but all he could hear were her screams for help, screams for him to stop. All he could see behind his closed eyes was the look of fear on her face as his body towered over hers. All he could feel was the trembling of her limbs against his and the tears dropping onto his skin.

Then, it would change to all of the moments he’d come home late and she’d be in the dark living room playing cards by herself, or the moments where she would look up at him with dark circles under her eyes, but smiling still as though it was their first date.

And then it would flash to their first dates, at the clubs, the bars, the theatres. It would flash to the first time he made her laugh because that was the moment he had fallen in love it her. It would flash to their first kiss. Their first “i love you”.

Then it would go back to the look of fear in Frances’s eyes as he assaulted her and everything would come crashing down.

He had _killed_ her. He killed his Frankie.

-

A few days later, he had learned from Frank that it wasn’t the first time Frances had tried to commit suicide. She attempted twice before, but failed. He wondered how he didn’t know this about his Frankie, and it reinforced the notion that he had not known her at all, really.

He took this knowledge with him to a party that Ronnie had invited him, too. It was after Jack “The Hat” McVitie had attempted to murder Leslie Payne, so Reggie was all strung up. When Jack showed up, looking all cocky like he was just living his best life, even after he fucked everything up for the Firm, Reggie couldn’t help but want to strangle him.

He hadn’t expected to actually murder Jack, but he had said Frances’s name and he didn’t want anyone speaking of his Frances like that.

_“Don’t blame me for what happened to Frances.”_

_“It’s not my fault Frances killed herself.”_

Before he knew it, Jack was bleeding out on the fur rug before him, and Reggie didn’t care. He didn’t care at all because all he wanted to do was go home and sleep with Frances in his arms but he couldn’t even do that because she was dead. Because she had killed herself. He pushed her to kill herself.

And he didn’t think that anyone had the right to say Frances’s name or talk about her like that after what happened. She was sacred.

He walked out of the party into the night and he could have sworn he heard Frances’s voice, but maybe he was just delirious and heart broken.

Reggie walked aimlessly back to East End, where his story with Frances has started. The pair of tickets weighed heavily in his pockets everyday, but he had no desire to use them. He told Frances that he would wait for her and he would. He would wait for her forever if he had to. He wouldn't want to go to Ibiza without her.

He thinks that Frances died probably thinking he didn’t really love her, because if he did, he wouldn’t have hurt her that much. But he did. He loved her and he hurt her and he wanted to die for it. He loved her so much more than anyone could possibly imagine, but he wouldn’t die until much later, which he thought was unfair of God to do. To let him live long, but take away his greatest joy in life right at the beginning.

But when he dies, he relishes in it. He’s delirious then, they probably think, because all he can talk about is a woman named Frances and Ibiza and if that was where heaven was.


End file.
